


Loki and Victor Raise a Little Hel

by bluestalking, feverbeats



Series: Hapless Queer Avengers [7]
Category: MCU, Marvel Comics - Fandom, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 13:52:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1901442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluestalking/pseuds/bluestalking, https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverbeats/pseuds/feverbeats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One baby, in conclusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loki and Victor Raise a Little Hel

When Victor wakes, the sun has risen and Loki isn't there. 

Victor takes his time in dressing and going down, and the first thing he hears is Pietro’s voice coming from the kitchen. Good. It’s best for them, in Victor’s opinion, to take breaks from the Avengers. _Anyone_ , in Victor’s opinion, would need breaks from the Avengers. 

He steps into the kitchen prepared to greet Pietro, and halts. There is someone with them. Tall, narrow strip of black hair. Ghastly expression.

“Oh! Hi!” Pietro says, interrupting theirself mid-sentence. “Gonna call but it seemed quicker just, nice day isn’t it?” The _person_ sitting at Victor’s table scowls.

"What is this?" Victor demands. He is glad to have put his mask on.

Pietro has no shame and isn’t afraid of Victor. Pietro grins. “Daken, we screw, he’s Logan’s kid. That cool?”

All Victor can manage is, " _Why?_ "

"Always knew Doctor Doom was bullshit." Daken glares at Victor and then Pietro. "And this shitty castle is cold."

Pietro smiles. “He’s just cranky ’cause I said screwing instead of dating. Such a fucking softy.”

The "softy" shakes his head and glowers, but he's blushing. Victor can see the family resemblance now. "Fuck you. Let's see the wolf."

“Does everybody know about this?” Victor asks.

“Oh, no,” Pietro says. “You mean like Loki? Eh-heh. Oh. No.” 

“Then you haven’t seen Loki this morning?” Victor asks.

“Oh, no,” Pietro says. “I mean you’d know, right? We were looking for Fenrir. I don’t think Loki is a great idea.”

Daken sniffs the air. He says, “I think that wolf’s coming. Wolf smells like a witch.”

“And what does that mean?” Victor asks, steely.

“Time for you to be on my side?” Pietro says.

“I can _try,”_ Victor says.

~

Loki’s errands don’t take as long as she expects, although she suspects the next might be longer. Frigga is sympathetic but to the point, and Laufey doesn’t coddle, which Loki appreciates. It’s wasted on her. She comes home to Victor, thinking about a late breakfast on the parapets, and how to avoid looking avoidant. She collects Fenrir on the way to the house--he’s been hanging onto her for weeks, and it’s easier just to humor him.

Victor appears very suddenly at the kitchen door, which he knows she likes to use, and he shuts the door quickly behind him

"I was missing you," Victor says calmly. "You were out?"

“Talking to my mothers,” Loki says, pressing her lips together. “Keeping out a draft?"

"I woke up a little cold," Victor says. "How are they?"

“Laufey’s first envoy into Asgard is days away,” Loki says. “How would you be?”

“I suppose that’s not the most relaxing venture.”

“No,” Loki says. “You seem rattled,” she adds shrewdly. “What’s wrong with you?”

"Oh," Victor says. "Nothing. Are you aware that Pietro is seeing someone?"

Loki isn’t aware, and she’s distracted for a moment from her other pressing business. Her eyes narrow. “What do you mean, seeing?” 

Victor hesitates. "They have--a boyfriend. Or something. You're not going to like this, so please refrain from killing him immediately. He's Pietro's age and he's polite enough."

Loki opens her mouth to ask something uncomfortable, but Fenrir growls behind her. “It’s in the house,” he says.

“Oh, is it?” Loki says nicely. “Let’s see it.” 

She vanishes, unnecessarily, right from underneath his restraining hand.

~

Daken's already on edge, grumpy and leaning toward angry. Loki appears out of thin air, and Fenrir bursts through the door a moment later. Daken’s claws are out before he realizes it's definitely Loki. He's seen her--well, _him_ \--on TV.

“That’s promising," Loki says. She looks like a very tall cat with its ears pitched back against an ugly noise.

"Hi," Pietro says resignedly.

“Nice,” Loki says, looking pointedly at Daken’s claws. “Were you planning to kill someone?”

Daken bares his teeth. This is exactly what he expected. "I would have tried if I thought you were a threat."

Loki looks him over impassively. “Has Wanda threatened you yet?” she asks.

"Don't worry,” Daken says, “I get the memo. I'm a killer, don't kill everyone's favorite. Got it."

“Are you a _killer_?” Loki says. “Interesting.”

"Yeah," Daken says. "Do I look like a good little kitten to you?”

“Just like,” Loki says, unsmiling. “Did you get those from your father?”

Daken growls, but Pietro grabs him.

“We’ve been dating for two months,” Pietro says to the rest of them. “Not a scratch.”

Loki says, “You could have warned us you were coming.”

“Like you warn Tony when you drag him out of bed at three in the morning,” Pietro says. “Sure.”

“He doesn’t mind,” Loki says. “Whatever I want is always more interesting than being snored on by Captain America.”

The bad guys really are in with the Avengers. Maybe Daken isn’t quite as fucked as he thought, if the world has gone that literally crazy. Daken says, "Look, I don't have to stay. But you have to believe Pietro’s not bringing home someone who’s going to hurt them."

“Are you angry at me?” Loki asks. She switches her attention over to him in a moment, and it’s a little unnerving in its intensity.

"You’re being overprotective," Daken says. "Because it won't work. People do their shit, whatever anyone else says.”

Pietro makes an anxious laugh. “This would be way easier if you were two totally different people.”

"I know what I am," Daken says. "I'm not a good guy. But Pietro is, and smart, too. Just fucking trust them."

“I do,” Loki says. “You don’t have to be stupid to be used. You don’t have to be smart to use someone, either,” she adds. “I’ll kill you if you hurt them.” Daken growls. In the doorway, Fenrir does as well.

“Loki,” Victor says sharply.

“Can you _stop?”_ Pietro says.

“Yes,” Loki snaps. “Go play with Fenrir. Maybe he won’t even eat you. You should have picked another day to come here.”

“There’s not a better day,” Pietro mutters.

Loki snorts, humorless.

“Fine,” Daken. “Come on, Pietro.” He stops after a few paces because there’s the wolf, and it’s not budging.

“It’s fine,” Pietro tells it. The wolf pants, and backs out the door. Daken and Pietro escape after it, slamming the door behind them.

“I don’t think I get why you like her,” he says.

Fenrir growls, “That’s my mother. My mother is very busy.”

“So hire a secretary,” Daken shoots back.

Pietro laughs. “We’ll go back later. Just get Fenrir on your side and she’ll have to change her mind.”

~

“I was thinking of breakfast,” Loki says, into the waiting silence.

"I was thinking of spending some time on the roof," Victor says. “Would you care to join me?” There’s something off about her that can’t be just Pietro picking up another dangerous young fellow.

“I can’t tell you what I’d care for,” Loki says. She conjures an apple, frowns, and rubs it against her sleeve. “Damn,” she says. “That’s not perfect.”

Victor chooses to sidestep whatever traps are lying there. “Come up with me,” he says.

He is silent until they are alone, the breeze buffeting them gently in the hot sun. 

"Are you well?" he asks.

“Oh, very well,” Loki says, tossing the apple once up in the air. She catches it with a contemplative expression and sets it on the parapet. “What do you think about having another child?” she says. “Please be delighted. You’re having one! These things happen. Congratulations.”

Victor pauses. Then he takes his mask off. "I-- _We?_ You mean--I didn't think--This is surprising." He grimaces. "I'm sorry. It just never even crossed my mind."

Loki makes an ugly sound, more upset than angry. “Didn’t _cross your mind?_ Surely you’ve noticed by now I am capable of bearing children?”

"Don't," Victor says. "Don't misunderstand. I just never expected _myself_ to produce any. Are you--all right?"

“Fine,” Loki says, but her voice shakes.

"I'm sorry," Victor says. "I'll make this as easy as I can. I'm sorry I was startled."

“I’m not angry,” Loki snaps. Impatience is pointless. She tries to breathe herself calm. “I don’t know that I could get rid of it if I wanted. I can’t change away from this shape. I’m trapped.” She meets Victor’s eyes. Frightened. It doesn’t matter how much she loves her children. She can’t associate _getting_ them with anything that’s good.

"I'm here," Victor says. He puts his hands on her shoulders. "I'll be here the whole time. Whatever else, you won't be alone."

“Very supportive. But I’m sure you want something. You have a preference. You want a baby? You’d prefer to kill it?” Loki suggests. “You have opinions, Victor.”

"I've never thought of children," Victor says carefully. "But if you want this one, I think we'll both do well."

“That’s almost an answer,” Loki says. “What if it’s something horrible? Maybe I was lucky before.”

"What if it's human?" Victor asks. "I am. You know, there are probably spells for finding these things out."

"Optimistic, but it is _mine,"_ Loki says. “Anyway. Asgard's divinations are probably too limited to describe anything coming from the two of us put together. Jotunheim generally expects its children to be--well, Jotun."

"And Midgard? We have technology. Or I could consult my books."

Loki makes a sound, but if there's something she wants to say, it doesn’t come out.

"We can make an informed decision," Victor persists. "It might just be a baby."

"Victor," Loki says sharply. "What am I? There's no such thing as just a baby. Nothing like this--” She smacks a hand against her stomach. “--has _ever_ been born. The information won’t mean anything."

"You're afraid of what might come next," Victor says. "The child itself. Being a parent again."

"Oh, maybe," Loki says. "I might be afraid that it will be a very nice baby and then it will die, just when I’m sure I want it. That sounds very possible, doesn’t it? No, I--" She knocks her fist against the stone. "It’s very simple, Victor. I’m content with Fenrir and Sleipnir, but the process of _getting_ them has bad associations." Every word is clipped and efficient. Victor feels stupid.

He says, "This is different, and we’ll make it different. I’m with you."

“I can’t,” Loki says carefully. “Frigga and Laufey have been very kind. Laufey understands. It’s really very stupid. I think if I stay trapped like this I’ll cut everything around me into pieces.”

Victor closes the small distance between them. "Loki. Darling. This _will_ be well."

“Oh, good,” Loki says, voice strained. “I’m so glad to know you can see into the future.” Her arms find their way around his neck and she buries her face, only for a moment. When she looks up again, her face is composed. “Fenrir already thinks it’s his fault I’m not happy. I should learn to do things without catastrophe.”

"You _stop_ catastrophes," Victor says. "In their tracks. Especially for all the children. Which is reassuring, isn’t it?" He holds her against him and kisses her hair.

“Does it matter?” Loki asks, and then elaborates, because she’s only asking to confuse things otherwise. “I mean, is it a problem for you, Victor, if I can’t shake off my nerves?”

"You can be afraid," Victor says. Maybe it isn’t nice to use the word Loki is avoiding, but he does. "You've been given enough reasons. You needn't promise that this will be easy. But try to trust both of us a little."

Loki says, “I _am.”_

"Then be as nervous as you need to be, and I will help," Victor says. "For what it's worth, I'm excited."

“Hah!” Loki says. “Ah. That’s good.”

Victor clears his throat. "I should have said. I was deciding. I have decided."

Loki’s weight becomes a little heavier against Victor’s chest. “That,” she says, “is very helpful. And a nice change of pace.”

Victor makes an angry little sound and holds her closer. When he speaks, though, his voice is even. "We'll have one of the guest rooms on our floor done over. Depending what shape the child is."

“Such as a giant serpent?” Loki says. “That would serve you right.”

Victor sighs. "If it’s a giant serpent, we'll simply put it out to pasture with the other children."

“I’d like to be put out to pasture,” Loki grumbles. “I’m getting too old for all of this.”

~

Loki gets up early the next morning, too, and goes to see Fenrir.

“Victor knows. You can explain to Sleipnir,” she tells him. “No-- _do_ explain to Sleipnir. Don’t keep it to yourself and drive him into a frothing rage. I see you want to.”

Fenrir nips the air. "You feel better today."

“Hmm,” Loki says. “I’m going to Asgard, perhaps all day. You can bear that, I hope.”

"No,” Fenrir says, with a thump of his tail. "I can come. I can help." He gives her a sly little sideways look, tongue hanging down. Loki squints back at him. She’s going to tell him no.

“In the middle of such a delicate diplomatic situation,” she says, “you want me, of all people, to bring you to Asgard to parade the streets? How well do you think that will serve your grandmothers?”

"Don't care," Fenrir says, but he does. "Did you tell them about the little one?" He stalks around Loki in a circle, as if he can create a wall of wolf body around her and the baby.

“A week or two ago. I’m sorry about Victor. You’ve been terribly patient.”

"I _know_ ," Fenrir says smugly. "What about the--" Cubs, the skinny cubs. "--Pietro and Wanda?"

“Wait,” Loki says. “Just your brother. I’ll get to them when I have to.” She frowns. “Although if I can think of a way to skip the production altogether, I wouldn’t mind that.”

"Probably you can," Fenrir says peaceably, butting his head against her. "You have a lot of talent. This baby, will it want to ride me?"

“What do Victor and I add up to, hmm?” Loki says. “I don’t even know if it can. I could read the books Thor is always bothering me about and see what it _could_ be, but I am not excited to do that. You want to come to Asgard?”

"Yes," Fenrir says. "You could make me very small and put me in your pocket."

Loki laughs. “Let Asgard live with you as you are.” She does something with her hair so it makes a coiled pile on top of her head, and her clothes become a neater compromise between gown and leggings. “To mirror Frigga,” she explains absently. “Not to forget Laufey. Heimdall, if you’re attending--?”

Fenrir presses close to Loki's side. He hates to travel by Bifrost. It makes his ears ring. Loki reaches a hand up to stroke Fenrir’s ear, and then they are gone.

~

The Asgardians they pass by on the way to the palace are as perturbed as they might have expected. Loki enjoys it, somewhat bitterly. She walks at Fenrir’s shoulder without touching him, and tries not to sneer openly at the passersby whose eyes widen at his giant tongue lolling over sharp teeth.

They reach the palace guard, and she does not know if they will try to stop her or not. Before she (or the guard) can speak, Fenrir does. 

"Let us in, please," he says, lifting his head proudly.

“I don’t--” one of the guards starts.

“You do,” says another, of the same rank. Their captain isn’t here. It’s almost brave of him to make the decision himself.

“My lo--” starts the latter guard, and stops and bows, flushing a little. “Welcome.”

Loki doesn’t answer. Fenrir wags his tail a few times and trots placidly through the gates at her heels.

They find Frigga entertaining audiences, and they wait at the back of the chamber until she chooses to seek them out. It doesn’t take long--probably less time than it would have, except that the waiting petitioners notice the large wolf watching them, panting cheerfully. When they are more or less alone, Frigga greets them.

“Fenrir!” Frigga says. “I didn’t know Loki was bringing you, too. How nice. Shall we go somewhere private? I’ll send for some--what meal is it for you, now?”

“Breakfast, mother,” Loki says.

"Breakfast," Fenrir agrees with a little too much enthusiasm. "One rabbit wasn't enough."

“Of course not,” Frigga says. “Tyr came home from a hunt last night, and there is plenty of good meat still from that. We will have it brought.”

“Tyr is here?” Loki says.

“Don’t fret,” Frigga tells her. “He almost certainly isn’t planning to barge in on your secrets this morning. James did not go on the hunt, which I think your brother found--frustrating.”

“ _Mother,”_ Loki says.

“There is nothing the matter with pragmatism,” Frigga says, rising from her throne and leading them away.

~

Fenrir sits patiently through all of the business talk, which is made easier by the large pile of raw meat brought to him by several distressed attendants. Loki looks more herself, too, the satisfaction in her quashing worry and discomfort with every tightened screw and sorted detail.

“I’ll go to Laufey before we return home,” Loki says. “But there’s very little else to do--only hope no one who feels too personally offended by Jotuns slips by all our safeguards.”

“And now you’ll have soothed so many of them with the sight of my grandson,” Frigga observes.

Loki’s eyes glint. “If they cannot manage a wolf,” she says, “they ought to have left Asgard millennia ago.”

Fenrir sits up straight, the fur around his mouth a little red. "I want to see Laufey. Laufey isn't _afraid_ of me, like all your weak little people."

“ _My_ weak little people,” Loki begins.

“Mine,” Frigga corrects amiably. “Though--speaking of which--have you made up your mind to say anything to Victor about--”

“Fenrir _knows,”_ Loki growls. “Honestly. Yes. What do you want?”

“Only to know that you’re well, my love.”

Loki crosses her arms and sulks against the wall. 

"She is _now_ ," Fenrir tells Frigga. "She was all wrapped up and sharp before. Do you think Victor will make a human baby? I don't." Fenrir hopes not. He’s afraid he will be tempted to eat a human baby.

“Victor can make a human baby on his own time,” Loki says. “With his science. I won’t do anything like that.”

“Certainly not,” Frigga says. “I hope it has my eyes!”

“You--” Loki starts, and then seems to realize Frigga is teasing her. “Ugh. It’s fine. You haven’t _told_ Tyr, have you?”

“Not exactly,” Frigga says. “Of course not, dear. You were so upset.”

“Not exactly.”

“Well, Tyr couldn’t have known I meant you were having any more, when I told him you were my only hope for grandchildren. I might just have been thinking on it.”

Fenrir bark-laughs. "My mother is the best mother. Better than Uncle Tyr." He thinks his uncle would not know what to do with a baby except teach it to use weapons. "Don't tell Thor. If you do, I'll need to guard the doors all night to keep him and his worry out."

“Banish me to Svartalfheim and let me die there,” Loki says. “Don’t tell _anyone._ Leave it be until it can’t be left. There are enough of you to trouble me already.” She stands up quickly. “Come, Fenrir,” she says. “To Jotunheim before I lose my stomach for company.”

Frigga laughs and takes her into a hug she can’t duck.

“I will see you soon,” she says. “Thank you, Fenrir, for coming with your mother. I do not see you enough.”

Loki snorts, and sweeps out the door.

~

Laufey is not usually inclined to push Loki’s buttons deliberately. By the time Loki and Fenrir return to Midgard, Loki’s feathers have unruffled. Or they would unruffle, if she could put herself in them.

She leaves Fenrir to be smug about _telling things_ to Sleipnir. She finds Victor in his lab, with a cold cup of coffee for company. 

“Do you think they appreciate it?” she asks, gesturing at his work. “The people of your country? You’re doing well for them now, but one couldn’t blame them if they resent you for the past.”

Victor glances up. "They probably do. I would. Truth be told, I don't much think of it. How was your morning?"

"I took Fenrir to Asgard," Loki says. "He wasn’t bothered by it."

"Hm," Victor says. "Less than the citizens, I imagine. He's very resilient. I imagine he felt safe with you."

"I think Laufey's visitation may not be disastrous," Loki says.

"No?" Victor says without conviction. "I hope you're right."

"What a good temper you woke up in," Loki says. "Missing your glory days of bacheloric tyranny? Is that a word?"

Victor laughs. "Missing the tyranny, perhaps. I didn't sleep much. I was planning."

"For what?"

"It was a long night. I had time for many plans. I was thinking about the baby, or snake. Also about Pietro's new companion."

"Oh, him," Loki says. "Won't Pietro get tired of him before anyone needs to ever speak of him again?"

"You can ignore how Pietro acted with him, but that won't change it."

"Let me correct myself," Loki says. “ _I_ miss _my_ days of bacheloric tyranny."

Victor snorts. "I'm sure you do. Come see what I've been busy with."

Loki leans down, elbows on the table, to glimpse Victor's sketches before she sees the work in progress, but they are interrupted by the call alarm on Victor's computer.

"Who'd call you?" Loki demands.

"No one," Victor says, mystified. He presses a button on the computer. "Castle Doom."

“Victor?” Wanda’s face appears on Victor’s screen. “Oh, good. Hi.”

"Hello," Victor says, perturbed. Wanda never calls. She either comes or she doesn't. "What is it?"

“I need a favor,” Wanda says. She looks out of sorts, as well as he can tell from the odd angle and the phone’s camera. There’s noise in the background of her call.

“Is that a _battle?”_ Loki asks.

“Yeah,” Wanda says. “I’m with my team. I’m a little busy.”

"Are you hurt?" Victor demands, shooting to his feet. "Loki can bring us there immediately." He's never trusted Wanda's team.

“ _I’m_ fine,” Wanda says touchily. “I need help for Pietro.”

That's much worse. Victor catches his breath and makes himself ask, "What's wrong? What is it?"

“Don’t _freak out,”_ Wanda says. “The Avengers just found out about their boyfriend.”

“How so?” Loki asks.

“Not on purpose. Pietro snuck him in last night and didn’t sneak him out again,” Wanda says. “Listen, I have to go, Pietro just called but I’m stuck with this thing, can you please just go help?”

Victor sighs. He loves Pietro and hates the Avengers. "Ah. One or the other of us will deal with it. I'm sure those fools are tripping over each other to ruin things." It wouldn't be the worse thing in the word if they threw Daken into a bottomless pit, but Pietro would probably be upset.

“Yeah,” Wanda says. There’s something like an explosion. “Thanks! Bye.” She signs off.

“I’ll go,” Loki says, with something less than excitement.

" _Thank you_ ," Victor says. "I never know what to say. I dislike them all too much. Including Daken."

“I will try to play nice for both of us,” she says unconvincingly. “Goodbye, Victor.”

She is gone in an instant. Being pregnant does not seem to dampen _that_ magic at all.

~

Loki wishes immediately that she had arrived somewhere else. At least, off to one side. She arrives in the lobby in the middle of things, between Captain Rogers, with his hands full of coffee, and Jan, who is babbling, her eyes the size of plates. Pietro, when Loki finds them, looks fed up, and Daken looks ready to either run for it or stab something with his hands. Loki tries not to find that wonderful.

"Whoa!" Tony says loudly when Loki arrives. "Okay, bad timing. We're kind of in the middle of something." His hand, clad in one glowing armored glove, is raised and pointed at Daken.

“What are you _doing?”_ Loki says. “I can see you haven’t slept, but that’s no reason to be a complete idiot.”

“He’s not being an idiot!” Jan says. “That guy is dangerous! And he got into our tower!”

“Because Pietro let him in,” Steve says, as if possibly he has said it several times already. He, Loki notices, doesn’t seem to have decided about Daken yet, although he’s erring on the side of _bad news._

"I said I'll go!" Daken snaps. "You think I want to be here with _you people?_ " His hands are fists below his claws. He’s casting a wary look at Natasha.

Natasha’s gaze flicks to Loki. "What do you need?"

Loki notices that Pietro’s phone is still in their hand. 

“Wanda called,” Loki says. “She said you were trying to murder Pietro’s new--interest.”

“When did you even have _time?”_ Jan demands. Pietro scowls. "It’s kind of your thing," Jan agrees. “Good point. Sorry.”

“Sure snuck this guy into my house awfully fast,” Tony says.

"You are colossal fucking assholes," Daken says. "Seriously, Pietro, I know they're your friends, but they deserve all the shit people say about them."

“ _Ugh,”_ Pietro says. “Seriously, seriously? Why are you all doing this to me? Natashamakethemstop.”

Natasha, Loki recalls, is close to Wolverine. She’s sure Natasha is on Pietro’s side, but she may not share their view that being on Daken’s is part of that. Loki doesn’t share that view.

"We will discuss this once he is gone," Natasha says, looking at Daken coldly. "But believe me, it's not about you."

Daken sneers. "I knew it. All my dad's pals. Probably a bunch of racist fucking mutant-hating shitheads. I'm going out the door in a second. Fair warning."

“Don’t,” Pietro says, but not as if they’d try to stop him. “I mean, do, if you want.”

Daken gives Pietro a sideways smile. "I like you and all, but no one said I had to like your annoying friends as part of dating you."

“We’re standing right here,” Jan says. “And we haven’t decided yet if we’re going to like _you,_ buddy.”

“Maybe now is the time to diffuse the situation a little bit,” Steve says pointedly.

“Don’t even tell me I have to like _another_ killer bad guy,” Jan retorts. Steve looks surprised. Loki crosses her arms.

“ _Stop,”_ Pietro says. “God!”

“What exactly is the objection?” Loki asks at large. “I don’t like him either. I was just wondering.” If she’d ever won a throne in a kingdom other than Latveria, every day would be something like this. It gives her a headache, and she wants to step on things.

"Our objection," Tony says carefully, "is that he's a killer. As Jan said."

"Right," Daken says. "Unlike my dad. Unlike _you_. Unlike your fucking Russian spy here, or any of the rest of you. I bet Pietro’s the only one of you who _hasn’t_ killed anybody. Right?”

“We’re not about to go around killing people for sport,” Steve says. “Are you?”

"I'm not about to kill one of _you_ ," Daken says, baring his teeth. "Why would I? Listen up: I want Logan dead, and whoever killed my mom. That's it."

“So reasonable it takes my breath away,” Loki says. She’s in no position to judge revenge against bad fathers, and if she were, she wouldn’t.

"He talks about you," Natasha says suddenly. "His dead child. And once, about discovering you weren't dead after all. It's not his fault, you know." Loki watches Daken’s hackles go up.

"Fuck off," he snarls. "I don't want this. I just want to hang out with my--with Pietro."

“Just cut it out,” Pietro says. Their frustration is rapidly declining into something worse. “I didn’t--this isn’t family fucking therapy hour, I just wanted him to spend the night. It’s _my place_ , isn’t it? Because if it’s not I’ll just take my pay and get another place, like Thor and Bruce.”

"Yes," Tony says slowly. “I mean, it is your place, but--We just weren't sure what the situation was."

"Well, now you know," Daken says. He glances at Pietro. "Forget it. We're cool. I’ll come over when you want." He doesn't sound like he's walking on eggshells like everybody else.

“Oh, good,” Loki says. “So glad I could help.” She doesn’t like to be called unnecessarily, but also, travel has been making her feel the slightest bit sick. Now it is making her feel more than the slightest bit sick.

“Nice of you to come,” Pietro says unhappily.

“I wouldn’t say no to your sister if I didn’t have to,” Loki says.

"Your sister is so much cooler than everyone else you know," Daken says. He sounds impressed.

“I have a thought,” Loki says.

"Great," Tony mutters, and Daken shoots him a look.

“Oh, yes,” Loki says. “ _You_ go to bed, and _you_ \--” She looks at Steve. “--make sure he stays there, and _you_ \--” This time at Jan. “--go let your girlfriend fuck you and leave other people’s business alone.”

Daken laughs once, loudly. Jan turns pink. 

Steve says, “You know, that isn’t the worst idea,” to Tony, and then realizes, and turns an even darker pink. “I didn’t mean you!” he tells Jan quickly. “I only meant--”

Tony rolls his eyes. "Point taken. I get it. Pietro's an adult. And you’re probably right about the sleeping. But this conversation is not permanently over." He points at Daken's claws, which are still out.

“I wouldn’t call this a conversation,” Loki says. “More a stampede. Migardians _are_ barbaric.”

Tony laughs. "We--got kind of taken by surprise. And you're right, I haven't slept. Sorry, Pietro. I didn't mean to parent you."

“You,” Loki says, “shouldn’t parent anybody. Look at yourself.”

Daken is looking nearly as mollified as Pietro, by now. Loki would almost feel guilty for bullying Tony, except he deserves it, and it’s true, and it’s making Loki feel almost jolly. Loki has heard that there’s virtue in truth. Maybe that is why she doesn’t feel as sick now.

Tony sighs. "Good point. Okay--I'm going to bed."

Daken looks at Loki, almost awestruck. Loki turns her back on the Avengers.

“Where were you going?” she asks. “Before they all fell on you?” 

"Breakfast," Daken says. "Out. Breakfast date. You know, whatever."

“Hah,” says Loki. “Ah. Well. Go on.”

"We will. Thanks for the assist." Daken retracts his claws and grab's Pietro's hand.

“Yes. Well.” 

"I wasn't worried," Daken says. "Is this your thing? Sweeping out of nowhere to organize shit? Man, I thought you were scary. Turns out you’re just, what, supermom?"

Pietro starts laughing before Loki can answer. And Jan, who is supposed to be pretending she is no longer here, says, "It's so adorable when there's not an emergency or anything? Oh my god," before Natasha drags her away.

"Eat your breakfast,” Loki snaps.

"We're gone," Daken says. "See you soon, probably. I’m invited to your house now, right?" Pietro pulls him out the door.

Loki, on a hunch, does not leave. She finds Natasha and Jan, still only just around the corner. 

"Sorry," Jan says. "You have a knack, but you're also just kind of a control freak? Ohmigod don't smush me, how are you so tall in that shape?"

"I'm sure we would have worked this out eventually," Natasha says. "But Pietro appreciates you coming, I think. Jan, come on."

“Natasha,” Loki says, before she can escape. “You didn’t tell anyone else. Did you tell the boy’s father?”

Natasha gives her a look. "I'm not stupid. But he _will_ find out, and I'm still not convinced this is a good idea, for many reasons."

“Wait, when would you have told Logan anything?” Jan says, and then smacks Natasha’s arm with the back of her hand. “You knew? You knew! Oh my god, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“Hanging him out to dry?” Loki says to Natasha. She’s not entirely sure that’s how the phrase works, but no one is stopping her to laugh. “Well, if his father decides at some point that I’m the one who should have told him, I’ll be sure to drop your name.”

"I don't see why it's his business, or anyone's," Natasha says. She turns her look on Jan. "I don't try to control the lives of my family or my past lovers."

“Even when they try to kill each other,” Loki says. “Very pragmatic.”

“So are _you_ going to tell him?” Jan asks. “Ms. Moral High Ground?”

“No,” Loki says in surprise. “I don’t care.”

“You,” Jan says, “are in the shittiest mood.”

Loki shows her teeth. “It isn’t a mood,” she says.

"Mm," Natasha says. "No?" She doesn't usually pry, but now she looks something like interested. That is not what Loki was hoping for.

“No,” she snaps. “It’s an interruption. As for Wolverine, I never care. Wolverine reminds me of Asgard, and Asgard is full of brutes. And he smells.”

Natasha's eyes flicker and Loki can see her choose to drop it. "In any case, he _will_ find out. Just when Pietro seems to be settling in. Unfortunate."

“Then don’t let him bully Pietro,” Loki says. “You practically have him on a leash. If he’s being a bad dog, fix it.”

“Definitely a mood,” Jan whispers.

Natasha throws her hands up. "Very well. I'll fix it, if it seems fixable. And you handle the son when he shows up at _your_ door."

“Hm,” says Loki awkwardly. “Well, next time. He doesn’t seem as bad as he did at first glance.”

“I guess maybe bad relationship choices are kind of relative,” Jan says. “Uh, so to speak.”

Loki clenches her jaw. Maybe next time Wanda wants something, Loki won’t come.

"It's time for us to go," Natasha tells Jan firmly.

“It’s time for _me_ to go,” Loki says irritably. She sweeps away before Jan can say anything else.

Loki sweeps herself into the street, thinking that either she could go home or she could drop in on Thor, who is supposed to have visited their mother and hasn’t. The street is much, much too hot already, as early as it is. Loki takes herself to Thor and Bruce’s place the quick way, and ends inside, where there is shade. She thinks very hard about throwing up, but decides against it.

“Thor,” she says loudly. “Are you awake? Are you in bed? Never mind, I’ll be in here when you’re ready.” She finds a book in her skirts (what looks like her skirts, anyway) and sits on the floor to read it.

There's a bang and a muffled exclamation from the other room. A few moments later, Thor emerges, with a sheet wrapped around his waist "Loki?" he says unhappily. "Mortals knock, you know." He turns back to the bedroom. "Bruce, it's Loki."

“You would have made me wait in the sun,” Loki says, jiggling her crossed feet. “It’s a bit early for aerobics, isn’t it?”

"Did you need something particular?" Thor asks, blushing. "We were going to have a quiet morning."

“Quiet, was it?” Loki says. “Everyone needs something particular from you. You were supposed to visit Mother yesterday.”

"Today?" Thor says blankly. "Oh--no, damn, you're right, I forgot." He looks more surly than apologetic, which doesn’t put Loki in a tremendously good temper.

“Never fear,” Loki says. “If anything goes wrong it will only precipitate another war and put everything you have worked for and and everything you love in jeopardy. What matter if you miss a few meetings?”

Thor fumes. "You come barging into my home, you interrupt me, you _lecture_ me--Is it any wonder I want little to do with Asgard? It's always something. I'll make it right with mother, but don't tell me how."

“Asgard?” Loki scoffs, infuriatingly comfortable on the floor. “Never mind Asgard. You don’t even know what happens in your own basket of pups.”

Thor swears and slaps the wall, although not hard enough to do any damage. "Apparently I don't need to! _You_ know all of my business for me!"

“Oh, no,” Bruce says. He’s coming out of the bedroom, fully dressed, hair combed, glasses straight, looking as though he hasn’t been interrupted at all. “The house is in one piece right now. Please don’t break it.”

Thor drops his hand to his side. "I--apologize. Loki has dropped by to remind me of my obligations." He shoots Loki another glare.

“No need to sulk,” Loki says. “If you remembered them, brother, no one would need to remind you. As for your skills of observation--you were never really credited with any, were you?”

“Stop,” Bruce says mildly. “If you’re doing--this, I’m going to have breakfast. If anyone wants breakfast, please let me know? Otherwise, just--don’t make us get involved. If you can help it.”

Loki smirks at Thor from behind her book.

Seething, Thor says, "I would like some sausages. Twelve sausages. Loki, why are you here? To _parent_ me? Truly?"

“It may stun you to know, Thor, that Laufey’s convoy is more than an opportunity to nag you,” Loki says, less violently than she could. “I was in the neighborhood. And I thought I might remind you that your visible support is...useful, at the least. Perhaps necessary.” Her eyes flick up to the ceiling. 

“In the neighborhood?” Bruce says from the kitchen. Loki turns her head.

“Because Pietro’s new paramour isn’t my cup of tea,” Loki says, “but I still don’t like them to be leapt on by a gang of overzealous vigilantes.”

“Paramour!” says Bruce over the sound of sausages beginning to cook. Loki likes Bruce. He invites conversation but he really doesn’t pry. Loki is glad that she didn’t kill him.

Thor looks slightly more chagrined. "I forgot Laufey. I will amend that. And as for Pietro, the others ought to keep out of his business. Young people should be allowed the freedom to make mistakes."

“Their,” Bruce says. He comes back out and sits at the table, armed with a bowl of cereal.

“Nice of you to assume it’s a mistake,” Loki observes.

Thor shrugs. "I don't, but it probably is,” he says, missing Loki’s meaning. “Pietro is nineteen? Twenty? But if it's a mistake, I doubt it's a disaster. And I'm not their parent. None of the Avengers are." He gives Loki a look.

Loki bristles. “Wanda asked. It wasn’t my idea.” 

"What is amiss?" Thor demands. "It can't just be that I've been remiss in my duties."

“Nothing is amiss,” Loki says. “It’s hot and you’re moody and I don’t care for managing packs of inquisitive animals at any time of day.”

“A drink?” Bruce offers. He absorbs all of their interactions like this. Loki thinks she would like it if Thor weren’t here at all. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting dressed?” she asks Thor. “Your attitude is never as compelling when you’re shouting from a blanket.”

Thor glances down in surprise. "Oh--yes. I'd forgotten. Very well, a moment." He shuffles sheepishly back into the bedroom.

“Rough morning,” Bruce suggests. 

Loki sighs.

“I’ll fix the thing with Laufey,” Bruce says. He shrugs. “We had a day yesterday. I don’t think he really forgot why it matters. To you. Or anyone.”

“Should I ask?”

“Don’t,” Bruce says. “You?”

“You’ll tell him,” Loki says. “I don’t know if I want him to know.”

“I don’t have to tell him,” Bruce says. “I’m not that kind of a relationship guy. Unless you’re dying, maybe.”

Loki laughs. “Quite the contrary. I managed to get a child out of Victor, that’s all.”

Bruce’s eyebrows fly up. “You’re pregnant?”

“Horrifying,” Loki agrees.

“I can see that,” Bruce says thoughtfully. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything. I’d offer to help with--whatever. But I don’t know a lot about babies.”

“Or whatever this is,” Loki says.

“A baby,” Bruce says. “Probably. Some kind of baby.”

That makes Loki smile.

“He’s coming back,” Bruce says.

Thor returns, dressed and looking much less annoyed. He takes a seat and gives Loki a sheepish sideways glance. "I apologize," he says. "Your timing was less than ideal. I _will_ go to Asgard, fear not. With my temper well in check."

Loki relaxes, though it’s barely visible. 

“I appreciate it, brother,” she says. “You should visit soon. You and Bruce.”

“If we go your way you’re gonna end up with Hulk for half the trip,” Bruce says. “It kind of freaks us out.”

“I like Hulk,” Loki says.

"Asgard likes Hulk, too," Thor agrees. "But I think mother enjoys Bruce's company more."

Loki climbs to her feet. 

“Fenrir came with me to Asgard yesterday,” she said.

Thor looks startled. "Did he? He didn't mind? _They_ didn't mind?"

Loki scoffs. “I don’t know how _they_ felt,” she says. “And I don’t care. But Fenrir was fine. He’s very brave.” She smiles. “And _very_ big. I think eating someone particularly nasty was good for his confidence.”

“Maybe you’re just a good mom,” Bruce says.

“There’s nothing I’m not good at,” Loki says. She snaps her book shut and stows it away. “Don’t kill the first young Wolverine with a--haircut--that you see in Pietro’s company. Let us know if you want to visit. Latveria has the benefit of not being disgustingly hot, so I imagine you’ll want to stay for several months.”

Thor laughs. "We will, with advance warning. We'll even knock."

“Oh, Thor,” she says. “So senselessly tied to convention.” She does do them the honor of a smile, before she leaves.

~

Frigga’s solo reign has been fair and peaceful so far. She knows how to wield power, gently enough that it does not topple her people’s trust and firmly enough that they can’t take it from her grasp. Entertaining Laufey, in the face of having ousted her king for his intimacies with them, is a delicate and difficult task. But she promised Loki, and she does not hold either a warring people’s ways or Odin’s greed against them.

For all the preparations, the thing itself is simple: Laufey comes by the Bifrost and is greeted by Frigga’s house, and they go together into the palace. Some of the people see, and many more strain for a glimpse, but there is no public audience. This private visit, publicly introduced, is the beginning of a peace, and Asgard should know better than to expect satisfaction of any kind today. They go safely into the palace and take seats for a meal, and no one attacks them, and none of Frigga’s children or their partners have said anything unconscionable yet.

Loki looks the least uncomfortable out of anyone, which Frigga suspects is not entirely representative of the truth. She keep her eyes open as she speaks the words to begin the meal, and then relaxes as the food comes.

“Imagine what they would think,” she says, “if they knew we have been meeting so often out of Asgard.”

Laufey's laugh rumbles through the hall. "Your people are even more curious than mine."

"Too curious." Tyr sounds bored. "It's lucky you have a head for politics, mother. If any of us were in charge, we'd lose track of the threads immediately."

“Speak for yourself,” Loki says. James, who probably should not be here at all, has the decency to look as if he knows so--but he spares an assessing and somewhat threatening look for Loki.

“He always does,” Frigga says, before either of them can start a fight in the middle of her maneuver.

"Your brood," Laufey begins, and stops. "Well. You have a wide variety of assets. I envy you that."

“But that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Bruce says. He, unlike James, does not look as if he feels out of place. Not except in the slight nudging of a glass, or the careful set of his spine. “Your country has been at war, or in the aftermath, for centuries.” Thor looks slightly ashamed. “Asgard has caused some of your suffering, so Asgard will help you regain your strength. Correct?” He only looks at Laufey as he says it. 

Laufey smiles. "Correct. Painful though it is to admit--we need Asgard. And at this moment, at least, its resources seem almost endless. One almost wonders what we have to offer."

Victor leans forward in his chair. "And what _do_ you have? Your magic, as I understand--"

"Is not your concern," Laufey says lightly. They look at Loki. "You promised me your companion would not be digging after our power."

“Is he digging?” Loki says, and Frigga looks to see if this upsets Victor’s pride. Loki speaks over it, anyway. 

“What Jotunheim has to offer,” Loki says, “is the greater security of Frigga’s throne. If Frigga can make peace with the Jotuns by honorable means, it makes her more powerful than Odin. If she can show Asgard a Jotunheim that is by choice bound together with this realm, they will not object when Jotunheim is returned its power. They will have an ally, and by then they’ll be glad of it.” She delicately saws a large piece of meat in two. “Victor would not think of asking what you can do for _him_ , I promise you.”

"I'm not so great a fool," Victor says, inclining his head slightly toward Laufey.

Laufey nods, placated. "I still have my doubts that Asgard will change its collective mind so easily, but the queen knows best."

"There will be dissent," Tyr says. "There's always dissent. But you needn't worry over it."

Frigga laughs. “I’m sure they find that reassuring,” she says. 

"I can handle it," Tyr says stubbornly. "It's my _job_."

"And mine, if we need someone more--talkative." Thor raises his eyebrows at Tyr. "I understand you've had to deal with some dissent of your own, brother."

Tyr very carefully avoids looking at James. "Nothing to make me less well-respected. Together, then. We will together beat and charm Asgard into agreement."

“ _Very_ charming,” Loki mutters. Bruce grins into his cup.

“I could have stayed home,” James says under his breath.

"I didn't want that," Tyr says.

"Then again," Laufey says, their gaze sweeping over the others, "perhaps Asgard will have already accustomed itself to disappointment. None of your children has chosen an Asgardian for a mate."

There’s a frozen silence for several moments. 

Frigga says, “I believe they want me to rule without ceasing until the stars give out. Thoughtless, really.”

"That was my hope as well," Laufey says. "No disrespect intended toward your children."

Thor clears his throat. "Laufey is right, though--Asgard will have to learn to adapt, and it has already begun. This alliance is a step as well."

“What about your kids?” James asks. He talks directly to Loki, and Frigga thinks it’s not meant as a piece of general conversation as much as an attempt to talk with one person and feel less trapped. But Frigga hears, and so probably does everyone else. “Maybe the wolf can rule Asgard?”

“Wouldn’t that be nice,” Loki says, unsmiling. James shrugs and sits back.

"He's bright enough," Laufey says. "But perhaps not disciplined enough. How are they, Loki?"

“Perfectly fine,” Loki says. “But you needn’t regret raising one less child than you bore. If Fenrir clings to me any more than he has for the last two months I will banish him into the far end of the universe.”

"Ah, the adolescent years," Laufey says. "At least he isn't attempting to do battle with you."

"I think he knows better," Tyr says almost fondly.

Loki grunts. “Well, we’ve brushed past your unapproved affair and my illegitimate children. What’s Thor done wrong lately that can help us forge a bond between two realms?

“Nothing,” Bruce says, firm and immediate. It doesn’t sound like nothing, but most people won’t argue with Bruce needlessly.

Thor quickly squeezes Bruce's hand on the table.

"Never fear, Loki," Laufey says. "This bond _is_ forged. It requires only time and the clever maneuvering of your mother's people."

“Very good,” Loki says with a sigh. “That’s good.”

~

The visit isn’t long. Keeping it short is one of the ways they are working around Asgard’s potential outrage. Frigga and her retinue--including Tyr--see Laufey off formally, and without incident. The rest of the party wait in the palace with after-meal drinks.

“That went well,” Victor says. “Your mother is very clever.” He toucheds Loki’s arm. “Are you going to drink that, my dear?”

“My mother,” Loki says. “You mean the queen?” Victor waits. Loki looks down into her cup. “I think so, yes,” she says sharply, to one thing or the other. Bruce quirks a smile into his own glass.

“You can have what I’m having,” he says. “It’s not bad.”

“I think I’ll have what _I’m_ having,” Loki says, and tips her cup. Victor’s hands clench on the tablecloth, but he doesn’t object any further.

“It is a relief to see this progressing so well,” he suggests. “With Laufey.” He half turns to include Bruce.

“We’ll see how it plays out,” Loki says noncommittally.

“I expected Laufey to be a little more--” Bucky says.

“More what?” Loki says. “More savage? Brutal? Rude?”

“Well, yeah,” Bucky says reasonably. “Like Tyr. Or me. They’ve seen a lot of war.”

“You were thinking of Jotuns as Asgardians,” Thor says. “Or as humans. But for all their size, Jotuns work through cleverness more than anything else.”

Bucky shoots Loki an uncertain look. “I didn’t ‘mean anything,” he says. “Just they’re more like Frigga than I thought. I get why it’s working out, now.”

“I always liked her better too,” Loki says contritely.

“One of us had best learn some measure of her restraint, if she ever does step down,” Thor says.

Victor clears his throat, managing to sound sarcastic.

“Excuse you,” Bruce says pleasantly.

“No one would have me,” Loki says, waving her hand. “Thor, I think it’s down to you or Tyr, unless you want to work out some clever way to restore Balder. Fenrir I think would like it _too_ much,” she adds, before anyone can come over upset about the mention of Balder.

“If Tyr or I were to rule, it would be James and Bruce making the decisions,” Thor says. He puts his arm across the back of Bruce’s chair. “We don’t always do so well by ourselves.”

“Tyr could do it if he had to,” Bruce said thoughtfully.

“Not _you,_ though,” Loki tells Thor. 

Frigga returns with Tyr as Thor is forming a response.

“Very well done, my dears,” she says. “And Laufey asks whether everything is well with the baby--they couldn’t tell. I told them you were just fine.”

Everyone, even Bruce and Victor, freeze up.

“Sorry--whose?” Bucky asks.

Tyr looks at Loki, and Thor looks at Tyr.

"What?" Thor shouts. "Loki? Why would you keep this from me? How is it possible? It explains your foul mood, at least."

“Oh, does it,” Loki says. “Are you pregnant, too?”

Tyr kicks Thor under the table, hard, and says, "I thought as much. Mother kept dropping hints. That's nice. Will it be a warrior, do you think?"

"It'll be mine," Victor says coldly.

“Then maybe not as much a warrior as they think they should be,” Frigga says pleasantly.

“Truly, I couldn’t say,” Loki says. “I haven’t sat down with it and made a plan for its future. Am I a bad mother?”

“Loki,” Frigga says.

“This is great,” Bruce says. “I’ve been wanting to talk baby clothes with Thor for weeks. Finally the silence is broken.”

Loki looks delighted.

"WHAT?" Thor yells. He glances around and quiets. "But--You both--I could have kept it a secret! I would have been happy for you!”

“You’re not happy now?”

“I am late!” Thor boomed. “ _Bruce_."

“You hover,” Loki says. “I don’t like it.”

“You excited?” James asks, like he’s very specifically remembering several bad-exciting things, including the wolf that Loki was once.

"I am," Victor answers. "We haven't made too many preparations yet, though. It's still early."

Tyr and Thor look at him blankly. "How do you know?" Tyr asks.

“He might be right,” Loki says. “Who knows?”

“Well, you’re not likely to give birth yet,” Frigga says. “You hardly show at all.”

Not everyone looks comfortable with this conversation, but Thor beams. 

"I'll teach it to hunt," he says proudly. His anger at being left out of the loop is forgotten. "You don't think it will be a girl, do you? Perhaps a robot?" He beams at Victor.

“He’s not a robot,” Loki says, staring like she’s unsure if he’s joking or very stupid. 

“There’s nothing wrong with girls,” says Bruce.

"I suppose it would be nice to have a few more in the family," Thor says.

"Did you have to say anything?" Victor asks Frigga.

“Silly of me,” Frigga says, which Victor thinks is nothing like an apology.

“Never mind,” Loki tells him, swirling the ends of her drink in her cup. 

"BUT," Thor starts again, at high volume, "you can't have wine! Not if you're pregnant. Tony told me that."

Loki sets her cup down against the table with a thump and stares at him. “And he’s had a lot of babies, has he?” she says disbelievingly. “And he’s an expert on the natal physiology of Asgardian-Jotun-Midgardian hybrids?”

"No," Thor says. "All right. I won't tell you what to do, sibling. Can I tell the Avengers? Tony probably already knows, doesn't he?"

“He does not,” Loki says. She picks up her cup, and Bruce says mildly, “I don’t know if anyone is an expert on Jotun-Asgardian-Midgardian hybrids.” Loki puts the cup down with a thump.

"The baby will be fine," Victor says sharply. " _I_ am not concerned. Even if it is the first of its kind."

“He’s right,” Loki says disgustedly. “I hope this doesn’t take long. How long does it take things like you?” She gestures at the Midgardians as a whole.

"Nine months," Victor says suspiciously. "Are we expecting something else?"

“We aren’t expecting anything,” Loki says. “We like surprises.”

"You are expecting a baby," Thor says happily. "I'm glad you finally told me. Now I can make preparations. Will it live in Latveria?"

“Where else would it live?” James says. “Right?”

“I didn’t mean it about the shopping,” Bruce says. “I don’t want to be a nuisance.”

Thor looks slightly wounded.

"We're not sure what it will need, anyhow," Victor says. "I'm planning a few things in case it can't tolerate heat, though."

Bruce gives Loki an odd look. “Anyway,” he says. “Good news. Today went well. We were going to say hello to Thor’s goats, since they don’t really do well in New York.”

“Thanks for letting me come,” Bucky says to Frigga. “I think it’s good. The plan.”

"Agreed," Tyr says. "And now I'll go among the people and talk to the ones who need reassurance. You're welcome to come, Thor, when you're done with the _goats_."

Victor stands, his cloak swirling. "And we should be going as well, Loki, yes?"

“Verily,” Loki says.

“I’ll see you to the Bifrost,” says Frigga.

At the gate, Loki says, “Well, Heimdall, it’s kind of you not to tell me what you see.”

“What I see is, already,” Heimdall. “There is nothing to fear in it.”

“Hm,” Loki says.

~

In fact it only takes two months or so for the baby to make its presence known in the usual way. Loki starts staring stonilypast anyone who mentions it. Two months is also how long it takes before someone finally slips up and tells Logan about Pietro’s not very new boyfriend. The only thing they can think to do is call for a retrieval. Loki finds them in Central Park, two parts romantic date, one part embarrassing dad.

“How uncomfortable,” Loki tells Logan, pressing her fingers under her eyes. The travel nausea is getting unbearable. “You’re part jealous boyfriend and part horrified father and you might as well be both to either. And you’re making a scene.”

Logan _growls_. "This ain't your business, Loki. Back off and let me handle it."

“Handle what?” Loki asks, crossing her arms over her stomach.

“Can we go?” Pietro says.

“In a moment,” Loki says. “Handle what, please?”

"This is a fucking mistake," Logan spits. "This kid's a killer. He's exactly what we're trying to keep Pietro away from."

Daken is quivering with rage, and it's very clear what he'd be doing if Pietro weren't here. "Who the hell gave you the right to make Pietro's choices for them?"

“Please excuse me for saying this,” Loki says, “but I don’t think anyone present has made you their legal guardian, or their effective parent.” She smiles. “At least not anymore.” She has had some time to think about this, and she is definitely on the side of Daken, if she has to pick either.

“I can do things on my own,” Pietro adds snappishly.

"We're just trying to do this thing," Daken says. "It’s a normal thing, even. And every time we turn around some asshole's interfering!"

"You don't know what he's like," Logan says, half to Loki and half to Pietro. “He’s an animal.”

"And you wonder why I'm fucked up," Daken mutters.

“The only person here who’s not a confirmed murderer is Pietro,” Loki says briskly. “And Pietro is an adult, and not your child, or your lover, and Pietro does not want your help. As for your son--well. He isn’t really, is he? And he hasn’t done a thing to Pietro, so you can either play selective justice with the past or you can congratulate him on growing as a person.”

Logan crosses his arms and puts his claws away. "Maybe we should both back off. They ain't your kids, either."

“I come when called, apparently,” Loki says. 

"So I'm the enemy now, huh?" Logan asks Pietro. "So much that you're getting _Loki_ to pop in for a quick fix?"

" _No,_ " Pietro says, "I mean yeah-I-called, but would you want to be me between _you and you? _" Pietro gestures between Logan and Daken. "I'm not trying to--fuck. I just--" Their attention is distracted for a second to something the others don't see. "--I just don't want to be responsible or _alone_ when you start tearing up Central Park. And each other."__

__"I won't," Daken says quickly. "No bullshit when you're around. I meant it. But he is making it hard."_ _

__"I just want you safe," Logan says. He sounds defeated. "Away from both of us. But if it's not my job it's not my job." He says that, but he’s still giving Pietro furtive looks like they might change their mind_ _

__"Yeah," Pietro says distractedly. They look around, frowning, quicker and quicker. "Do you guys see those--things?"_ _

__"Which things?" Loki says._ _

__"Shadows," says Pietro._ _

__"No," Daken says, and both he and Logan get their claws out again. "Where? They must be moving fast."_ _

__"Not--moving," Pietro says. "I mean that's not--they go away." They shake their head. "Probably nothing. I don't see 'em now. Maybe I'm just nuts."_ _

__"I don't think so," Logan growls._ _

__"So they're only there for a second." Daken looks at Loki reluctantly. "Well? You're the one with magic powers."_ _

__"No idea," Loki says. "If you _don't_ need me, I’m going home."_ _

__"You look a little green," Logan says._ _

__"Thank you so much for your assessment," Loki says. She sets an insistent look on Pietro._ _

__"Oh, it's fine," Pietro says._ _

__"Good," Loki says. "Bye."_ _

__"You know, she didn't know bye before," Pietro says as she disappears._ _

____

~

For quite nothing gets out of hand. To (almost) everybody’s surprise, Pietro and Daken keep on being _a thing._ Wolverine doesn’t exactly get over that, but he keeps out of their way, at least. In Asgard, Frigga works her soft-as-silk maneuvers to bring Jotunheim closer without significantly pushing her own people away. A month or so after Loki’s family drops hints at the table that Loki isn’t human, Victor fully develops the sneaking suspicion that maybe Loki is not going to _behave_ like a human just because she is having _his_ baby.

He says as much to Fenrir, who laughs at him. It’s disconcerting when a giant wolf laughs at you, even when it is on friendly terms with you.

"My mother," Fenrir says, "is not one of your humans. My mother is unpredictable. Like me.” 

“Well, how long did _you_ take?” Victor asks, affronted. “It isn’t leaving very much room for planning.”

Fenrir cocks his head to one side. "Not sure. I wasn't born then. How long for a wolf? Probably about that long. But you can't guess it. Don't you know anything about magic?"

Victor is so offended that he just glares at Fenrir through his mask. 

"Some witch," Fenrir scoffs. "Mother will have the baby when it's ready. I can't wait to meet it." 

He has a crafty look around his eyes and muzzle, but it's hard to tell. Victor says sharply, “Do you know something about the baby, Fenrir?”

"I know a lot of things," Fenrir says. "Don’t you? It’s all over.” He rolls his eyes. “You _don't_ know much about magic."

“Now listen,” Victor starts, starting to get really annoyed, but Loki appears at the door, round-eyed. Victor thinks, _You look young,_ and that’s really aside the point. Victor frowns. “Are you well, my dear?”

“Don’t hover,” Loki says automatically. She looks just like a startled cat, Victor thinks. Her hands are even slightly outstretched, like she needs the extra balance. At any moment she’ll start licking a paw and pretending it never happened.

Fenrir lets out a low bark. "Mother?"

“Pietro’s shadows,” Loki says in snapping syllables. “They _won’t go away.”_

“Pietro’s _what?”_ Victor says.

"Dark," Fenrir says unhelpfully. "I know. I can't see them, but I smell them. For weeks now."

“Can you?” Loki says. “Well, that’s interesting, if it isn’t encouraging. Who do you think would know what they are?”

“What are you talking about?” Victor interrupts. He doesn’t know what’s happening, but he knows already that he doesn’t like it.

"The baby," Fenrir says with great patience. "Maybe my uncle would be able to help. He's been everywhere."

“Thor?” Loki says, frowning doubtfully. “No, sorry, Tyr. Of course you mean Tyr. I don’t know that he knows about babies.”

“The baby _what?”_ Victor says. “Shadows? _Smelling_ shadows?”

“I don’t know,” Loki says snappishly, but she blinks a moment later and waves a hand. “There are shadows. Like people. It happened when I was pulling Wolverine off of Pietro and that boy a few weeks ago, and it’s happened since then--I’d hoped it would go away.” She frowns bemusedly at Fenrir. “But they’re still here.”

Victor tries very hard not to sound worried. "Do you think something's after the baby? Or do you think the baby is causing it somehow?" Neither sounds probable.

Loki leans against the doorway, peers out behind her, and says, “Oh, it’s probably the baby’s fault. They like to start young.” Fenrir opens his mouth to yelp in complaint, and finds Loki already smirking at him. 

"Do you think it's dangerous?" Victor asks. "Perhaps we _should_ see if someone can give us some advice." He's thinking of Stephen Strange and wishing not to be.

“See someone?” Loki says in a strangled voice. “Like a doctor?” As if doctors are the worst invention of sentient life. Victor wonders, for what is embarrassingly the first time, whether Loki’s aversion is normal in Asgard. He’s been assuming it is, but what if Frigga has been assuming that Victor isn’t so gullible he’ll let Loki sneak out of getting proper help?

"Perhaps like a doctor," he says firmly, through his concern. "What's standard?" He means on Asgard. He means on Midgard. This is all new to him.

Loki swallows a _look_ and says silkily, “I’m sure I don’t know, I’m not what you’d call standard, am I? Unless this is normal for the first time and normally everyone gets ghosts.”

Victor sighs. "I just want to know that I'm not neglecting any essential features of this process. Anything that would _help_ you. It doesn't have to be a medical doctor, necessarily. A doctor of magic might be useful for these--shadows."

Loki’s startlement has shaken itself off by now. She says, “I’m sure it’s nothing, Victor. I wish you wouldn’t fuss.”

Fenrir makes a little growl deep in his throat, placing his paws several times. 

“I don’t care if puppies are different,” Loki tells him. “I’m _fine_. It’s nothing.” 

“What did your mothers say?” Fenrir demands.

“They said it was fine, too,” Loki lies. “Shadows--just a little fatigue. Doctors--unnecessary.” She tilts her head at Victor, as if suggesting that he is one of the unnecessary doctors.

"Your brother, then," Victor says, allowing a note of pleading into his voice. "Tyr. Fenrir's right, he's seen everything in every realm. Besides, what warrior doesn't have a wealth of knowledge about healing?"

“I’m not _sick_ ,” Loki says, and then waves her hand in front of her face. “All right, I’ll ask,” she says, “but don’t expect anybody to know.”

"It might be nice for you to catch up with him," Victor says. He is worried. He's very worried. The shadows could be anything, and honestly, so could the baby. None of them is ready for this.

Loki pushes off from the wall and shakes her head. “I can see you catastrophizing from here,” she says. “That’s a word Stark’s therapist likes,” she adds, which Victor _had_ wondered. “I’ll see Tyr just to quiet you down.”

She leaves before Victor answers, as if there really isn’t anything odd going on.

Victor wheels on Fenrir. "Don't," he says. "Don't say anything. I'm going--to finish my experiment." He goes, trying not to think too hard about Loki.

~

Tyr doesn't expect Loki to show up, looking agitated and uncharacteristically fluttery, with the wolf and Pietro in tow.

"What brings you here?" he inquires, as Fenrir tries to wedge himself through the door at Loki's heels.

“Victor was going to nag me to death if I didn’t run away to you,” Loki says snidely, and then shakes her head slightly. “Pardon me. I mean I might have a--slight problem, and we thought you might be able to help.” 

"Really?" Tyr tries not to sound too surprised. Loki never asks for help. Tyr rarely has help to offer.

James comes out of the next room, t-shirt in hand. "Oh--" he says. "Hey, Loki. Fenrir." He inclines his head toward Pietro politely and pulls his shirt over his head.

Pietro, Tyr notices, smirks shamelessly and doesn’t look away.

James messees up his own hair and says, "Hey, I'm James. I don't think we've met."

“Pleasure,” Pietro says, still smirking.

"This is Pietro," Fenrir says, and James looks startled, the way he always does when Fenrir speaks.

"You're all welcome to come in and sit," Tyr says, remembering himself.

Loki’s eyes widen as she sits, and she taps a finger against the air. “Bucky Barnes,” she says, and Tyr isn’t sure why until he sees Pietro’s face.

“ _Oh,”_ Pietro says. “Holy shit. Didntevenknow. I mean. Haha--wow. Hi.”

James ducks his head and grins sheepishly. "That's more--Or it was. Are you another one of Loki's kids?"

Pietro shrugs. “Kid sibling, maybe? I mean don’t call me that, but. Uh, Magneto’s my dad. You know Magneto? We don’t-really-talk-so. I’m an Avenger? Maybe you’ve heard of my sister.”

Loki says to Tyr, “I need you to look at some shadows.”

James is giving Pietro a pleased, friendly look, so Tyr turns his attention to Loki. "Where?" he asks. "And what sort?" Loki trusting his expertise at anything is somewhat new.

“If I knew what sort, would I need help?” Loki says. “Maybe it’s something you’ll recognize--is there such a thing as a haunted pregnancy? Frigga didn’t think so. But you’ve been everywhere.”

“They just turn up around Loki!” Pietro says. “Saw ‘em a few weeks ago. But they’re happening more now. And they’re easier to see. Weird as fuck.”

"Hm." Tyr grimaces at the air around Loki. He almost thinks he can--But no. "Can you tell me what they look like?" he asks Pietro and Loki.

"I can tell you what they smell like," Fenrir says from the floor. "Dark."

“I still don’t know what that means,” Loki tells him. “Are they svartalfs? Please tell me they’re not. Disgusting creatures. And they’re supposed to be _dead._ ”

"Dead," Tyr says thoughtfully.

“What?” Loki says.

“Thinkthey’reghosts?” Pietro says, and then repeats theirself more slowly. “Because--okay, but why would ghosts haunt a baby?”

“Because they know just how much I _love,”_ Loki starts, and then yelps and jumps backwards off her chair, because one of the shadows appears directly in front of her. “Do you recognize _that_?” she demands.

Tyr stares. "I do," he says slowly. "I think Pietro is right. Can it--Can he hear you?"

"What is it?" James asks. "Who is it?"

"An Asgardian fallen in battle," Tyr murmurs.

“Oh, no,” Loki says. 

“Why oh no?” Pietro says. “I mean unless you just don’t like ghosts.”

“ _Oh no_ because Asgard’s dead should be drawn to Hel,” Loki says. “Not to _me._ I can’t immediately think of many good reasons for this to happen.”

“Hey,” James tries. “Can you hear us? Are you--around? In there? Do you have a name?”

“It doesn’t seem like he’s listening,” Pietro observes.

"He wouldn't," Tyr says grimly. "He shouldn't even be here."

"So you guys have a Hell too, huh?" James asks.

“Hel, not Hell,” Loki says unclearly. “They just turn up like this, Tyr, sometimes one and sometimes more--”

“More,” says Pietro, looking out the window.

“--and they don’t say a word and you can pass right through them--”

As Loki says this, she raises an arm and swings it at the shadow in front of her, and just as she does, something outside _thunks_ against the door. Tyr’s head whips around, Loki’s arm swings forward.

“Are they _knocking_?” Pietro says. “Are you expecting _guests?_ ”

Loki’s hand goes halfway through the ghost and gets--stuck.

“Mother!” says Fenrir. Loki pulls her hand free, looking disgusted and, Tyr thinks (as he gets up to see what is at the door), a little worse than unnerved.

"Do ghosts usually--" James starts, and Tyr snaps, " _No._ "

Fenrir edges back against Loki, teeth bared. "What do they want? Baby?"

"Has Victor had contact with the realm of death?" Tyr asks, never looking away from the shade in front of Loki. "Could this baby be touched with some Midgardian magic?"

“Did you know that there are some out here?” Pietro says. Tyr shifts his gaze to see them leaning against the window. “They’re too solid to get through. Isthat _good_?”

James leans over behind Pietro. “Looks like more of the same,” he says. “Maybe you should take a look and see if you recognize any of them.”

“Any?” Loki says.

“There’s like ten,” Pietro says. “At least ten. Some of them are fading in and out, it’s hard to know what counts.”

“Everything counts,” says Loki.

"Some of the men I've fought with," Tyr says, deeply troubled. "There, at the window--I see him clearly. He died on the battlefield with Father when I was a child."

“Oh good,” Loki says. The ghost in the room with them starts fumbling towards her, and she gets up quickly. “Why aren’t they in _Hel_?” she says. “Well--this is worse. I suppose if they’re all Asgardians they would be. I wonder if the ones in Midgard are Asgardian too? From when Odin was _hunting._ ”

“Should we leave?” Pietro asks, head swiveling.

“Yes,” Loki says. “I think we should. Thank you, Tyr, you’ve been so helpful.”

"They don't seem to mean you harm," Tyr says, although he's not certain it’s true. "Come back if you need. Or--contact us another way. If coming here makes this worse." He wonders if the ghosts will go when Loki does. He suspects they will.

“It’s worse,” Loki says. She skirts around the ghost and then looks blankly at the door. “Would it be wrong to attack them?”

“Not sure it’ll do anything,” Pietro says. “They might get offended?”

“Maybe Fenrir can push them out of the way,” Loki says, looking sideways at him.

Fenrir just growls in response and puffs himself up. "Get on my back. I'll push them."

“I told him,” Loki says. “I told him.” She climbs up lightly, though less so than usual. Pietro scrambles up behind, full of apologies for pulling Fenrir’s fur.

Fenrir barrels out of the house and through the pack of waiting ghosts. They're quite solid now, and they reach for Loki. Fenrir roars and pushes through to the road beyond.

“Sometimes,” James says, “when I feel like kind of a mess…” He looks out after Loki. It is not a nice thing to say, but he doesn’t mean anything really bad by it. The ghosts are starting to fade already. A few of them try following Fenrir, but most just look stumped, like their purpose has been yanked out from under them.

"Loki can be bad in a crisis but always does well in the long run," Tyr says, looking after them. "I hope that proves true with regard to this...child."

“Well,” James says thoughtfully, “the dead people seem to like it all right."

Tyr doesn't answer. The dead should stay in Hel. What have Loki and Victor done now?

~

Loki is overly guarded when Victor sees her next, as Victor is throwing feed to Fenrir’s emergency chicken supply.

“We’ve come back from Asgard unscathed once again,” Loki says. Her hair is braided over her shoulder, which is unusual, and nice.

"Was Tyr any help?" Victor asks, trying not to pry in case it keeps her from speaking to him for the rest of the pregnancy.

Loki explains what they’ve found out--or at least as much as she’s willing to. Completeness of the facts is always in doubt, with Loki, of course, but that the baby is a magnet for dead Asgardians is plenty to take in at once.

“But it doesn’t work on humans,” Loki says, “or there’d be more of them here. And it might work on Jotuns, but I haven’t seen any.”

"I think," Victor says carefully. "Loki, I think--You never did read those books, did you? The ones about you?" It could be worse, he tells himself.

“I don’t enjoy misery as much as you seem to think,” Loki says. He can see her sharpening all over. “No. Why?”

"In those stories," Victor says, "your daughter rules over Hel." He hasn't thought to ask, before now, what Loki's notion of Hel entails, or who rules it. Whatever that notion is, Victor can guess this isn’t it. Loki looks stupefied. 

“There’s already a queen of Hel,” she says.

"Well, I don't know," Victor says. "In the myths, it's your daughter. Where does this queen come from? I would imagine she isn't happy with her ghosts following you around."

Loki frowns. “No one’s ever seen her,” she says. “You can’t get into Hel except by dying, and you can’t come back once you do.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know about your people, Victor, but--ghosts. This thing. It does not happen in Asgard, not this way. Sometimes you might see visions of the dead feasting in the halls of the afterlife--Thor or Tyr’s sort of thing, you know. No one is wandering around and bumping into things once they’re dead.”

"Until now," Victor says. He tries not to look down at Loki's belly. "You don't think _I_ \--It's possible that this is because of me."

“Because you’ve gone traipsing through some Hell or another yourself,” Loki says. “Yes, that’s probably it.” Her voice is light enough, and she’s managed this whole thing so well that Victor trusts it, even after looking closely. Loki says, “So assuming she is the queen of Hel, how do you think she gets there? Since she has always been there and no one who is not dead can enter or leave?”

“I don’t know,” Victor says, defeated. They’ve hit the limits of his knowledge. “Magic? I’m more concerned about--” He stops, because he’s concerned about a few things. How the pregnancy will be for Loki. If either of them will ever get to hold the child. The queen of Hel might resent things like parenting.

“Oh, yes,” Loki says, and wanders away. To keep Victor from voicing any more specific fears? Either way, she is only gone a few moments before she is back, wearing a persecuted expression. “At least,” she says, “they’re toughening up. Much harder to get through the door that way. One has its arm halfway through the wall.”

"Here?" Victor asks, alarmed. "Well. Should I take this to mean the baby is due soon?"

Loki says, “I _refuse_ ,” very coldly. And then, lightly, “I’m going to New York now, Victor,” as a shadow wanders in with a sort of intense amble.

"Take care," Victor says, because he can't say anything else. This is Loki's pregnancy, not his, and he's been clearly on the boundaries all along, even if it makes him unhappy to have a situation taken out of his hands.

At least Loki tucks up a little smile for him before she leaves.

~

The hideous thing is that they’re there, as well. Either they’ve learned to latch on, or there have been Asgardians here, as well.

“The Vikings came to the Americas forever ago!” Jan says, watching the shadows with interest. 

“And Asgard couldn’t let them get here on their own?” Loki is trying to keep her temper down; this is making a spectacle of itself, exactly what she doesn’t want it to be. There have been two or so years of nonstop _spectacle_. No more, please. Eyes off. Let her alone with a damned book.

“I think,” Jan says, “you should talk to Wanda.”

“I’m sure she’s busy.”

“What, she won’t be more interested in As-ghosts?” Jan says scornfully. “She loves showing off, come on.”

“And what’s--” Loki starts, but one of the ghosts reaches out and grasps her wrist, and she shakes it off like a spider. “That is new,” she says. 

“You should go,” says Jan.

The ghosts come along with Loki. She’s sure they do. They make the motion from the tower to Wanda slow and difficult--she can see everything stretching out in front of her and behind her, blurred and heavy. When she stops, it’s like snapping free, and she trips forward into a wall. All of Wanda’s team are with her, not even fighting, just eating lunch in a casual circle. Loki arrives, master of discretion, smack into a wall with a pile of ghosts on top of her. 

“Wanda,” she says tightly. “Would you like to do a little magic?”

Wanda blinks at her. "Yeah," she says after a second. "We're not really busy. What _are_ those?" Half her team has already found weapons to grip nervously.

"You okay there?" Luke asks dubiously.

“You don’t have to shoot them,” Loki says. “They’re dead. Pietro didn’t tell you?” She waves a hand, sketchily. “Dead Asgardians. It’s probably that the baby is the queen of Hel. Although I don’t have any idea how she gets there from here. Or now.”

"The queen of Hel?" Wanda says. She glances at her team, looking worried. "Well, at least that means she's probably on your side, right? If she's your daughter?"

Loki says, “Yes, because that always works out,” and tries to sidestep the pile of ghosts. They shuffle after her.

“What exactly do you want Wanda to do?” Danny asks. “I mean--aren’t you kind of magical?”

“It’s the wrong kind of magic,” Loki says. “And besides that--she is making things difficult.” She gestures with a finger. “The baby. I don’t know if _you’ve_ been pregnant before, but it takes a lot out of you. Especially,” she adds, “when it’s more powerful than you are.”

“I definitely haven’t been pregnant, come on,” Danny mutters, unnecessarily, Loki feels.

Wanda hesitates. "What if--I don't know anything about babies. And I have more control than I used to, but not--I just don't want to hurt her." She says the last part quietly and in a rush, not looking at her teammates.

“Oh!” Loki says. “Ah, no, Wanda, I don’t think you will. And I don’t want you to do anything to--no? Not even near her? I suppose that if the ghosts belong to her that separating them might--” She slides sideways, trying to put more distance between her and the creeping figures, and sighs. “I suppose it might cross over. Clever of you to think so.” She doubts she looks pleased with Wanda’s cleverness.

"When are you due?" Luke asks, perhaps hopeful that maybe it will go away on its own.

“Please,” Loki says, “Find me the book on Jotun-Asgardian-Human infants who magnetize ghosts. Please do find me that book.”

“Do they go away if you go blue?” Jessica who is Spider-Woman says suddenly, from beside Wanda. 

Loki says, “Hah. Well.”

“You haven’t tried?” Jess says. Loki frowns at her. 

“It doesn’t usually work to try,” she says. “I mean, it didn’t with--”

“Well, she might not be the Asgardian god of death if she’s not...you know. Being an Asgardian,” Jessica says.

“There’s a world of offense in every word you’re speaking,” Loki says, but she tries it. It works. In the right permutation, it works, and she can change. Her skin cools. The ghosts clutter up like startled sheep and then mist away, out the windows and through the door. 

“Well,” says Loki, catching her breath.

"Huh," Luke says.

"Is she okay in here?" Wanda asks, looking as if she wants to stare right through Loki. "Does she have to change with you? Or is she so powerful she's fine as she is? Sorry, I know you don't have any answers."

“I didn’t have to be a wolf for Fenrir to be a wolf,” Loki says. “But that was different. Apparently.”

“Kind of cool, right?” Danny says. “If you’re into being horribly anxious and unprepared.” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t try that before,” Jess says. “The transformation.” Jess sets Loki’s teeth on edge.

“You’re very clever,” she says through her teeth.

“I think the ghosts are really gone,” Jessica says, getting up to look out the window. 

"Back to Hel," Wanda says frowning. "And--whoever's there. It probably helps to know that everything that's happening is sort of--set. Set up to happen."

“Does it?” Loki says. “What if, say, you’re the ones who are meant to make it happen? What do you think you’re supposed to do?”

There’s a pause. Danny says, “Well, it’s really probably not up to me.”

"I think right now we just need to keep you and the baby safe until she's born," Luke says.

“ _Thank _you,” Loki says. If this is what works, then obviously Jotunheim is where they have to go. Until she’s born, and whatever disaster is jumping up and down waiting to happen can really get underway. Victor, she thinks, would like her to come home and tell him what’s going on. But Loki is feeling overheated and conspicuous already. She says, “Wanda, let him know I’m with Laufey, if you will.”__

__Wanda nods and doesn't ask questions. "Of course. Oh--I should tell Fenrir something, or he'll try to get out and follow you."_ _

__Loki shakes her head. “Of course he will. Heimdall can send him.”_ _

__"Good," Wanda says firmly. "Good luck."_ _

__Loki waves farewell, and takes herself to the coldest gate to the Bifrost, shivering with effort. This has to end soon, it really does._ _

__“Heimdall,” she says aggrievedly. Heimdall must be watching this whole mess, because she barely finishes saying his name before she’s standing across from him with Asgard in the distance._ _

____

~

At first, Loki’s arrival in Jotunheim does not seem to usher in any sort of disaster. Loki is in a relative state of calm, and does not bring hordes of Asgardian ghosts along behind on the Bifrost.

“There are ghosts,” she explains. Laufey wants them to stay, after the baby is born--they think perhaps that will help in surpressing the shades. Loki is not so convinced that avoidance is the answer.

“There shouldn’t be any ghosts _now_ , and there are. _Now._ I can see them in the distance, but they’re not coming to me. So, they don’t recognize her, but they can’t go home. Something is not right, and maybe it is not right because she is in the wrong place.”

"Is she in Hel?" Laufey asks. "In this moment, when she is in you, is she there, as well? Consider that she may not be. Then the dead would have nowhere to go."

Loki says, “Maybe she’s not. But--she was before, or--? There were no ghosts before, so she must have been there!” Loki puts hand to forehead and rubs vigorously. “I’m never, ever, ever doing this again. So there aren’t too many ghosts here, at least not yet, because not that many Asgardians have died in Jotunheim. And they aren’t looking for the baby because she’s not at present the Asgardian queen of Hel. But they--” Loki frowns. “They must be everywhere they died. Oh, dear. Heimdall, if you want to tell Tyr where I am, no doubt he’s looking. Go ahead.”

Only moments later, Laufey pauses and turns, holding up a hand. "The Bifrost."

Soon, Tyr charges in, Fenrir trotting after him. To Tyr’s credit, he takes the time to bow hastily to Laufey. Then he says, "Loki, do you know how many dead Asgardians there are in these nine Realms?"

“No,” Loki says slowly. “But how many are in Asgard?”

"Many," Tyr says grimly. "Worse in some places than others. There's barely--there _isn't_ room for them all to stand, in some of the valleys where the battles have been."

Laufey smirks and imagines this. After all, the ghosts are dead. It's hardly an emergency. They noticed Fenrir laughing and feel a certain softness towards him.

“Piles and piles of them, probably,” Loki says faintly. “Well, good. So they’re _all_ showing up, is that what you think?”

"I don't know why they'd stop now," Tyr says. "Can you hurry that baby along? I'm asking on the behalf of the rulers of several Realms. I’ve been looking for you for days, you know."

Laufey places mental wagers on who is kicking up the most fuss, as Loki develops a very sweet expression. “Oh, please let them know I’ll make everything as convenient as I possibly can for them.”

"Ha!" Tyr says. "All right, all right. But the situation is getting out of hand."

“I know,” Loki says. “They’re here, too. Personally, I just like that they’re no longer trying to smother me. Oh! Can they be touched? I mean can Asgard still go about its business as in a worryingly familiar fog, or are they blocking the roads and so on?”

"Oh, they're solid," Tyr says darkly. "Loki, this is _serious_." He gives Laufey a furious look.

“I know,” Loki snaps. “I’m working on it. It’s difficult to work on. I didn’t anticipate getting _pregnant_ at all, let alone having to manage yet another kingdom that no one else’s competency quite seems to cover!”

"I'll let that go, because you're under a lot of pressure," Tyr says. "Shall I carry a message back? Mother will be happy to know you're somewhere peaceful, anyhow. As the for the ghosts--at least they're not malicious." He looks pained.

“I doubt it will be that long,” Loki says. “You should be more worried that I won’t think of something to do about it before she’s actually born.”

" _Someone_ will think of something," Tyr says doubtfully. "It doesn't have to be you, although it probably will be. Take care, Loki."

“Come back if there’s something you expect me to do,” Loki tells him on his way out.

"Well," Laufey says when Tyr is gone, "Will you wait here until Asgard is buried until a heap of ghosts to emerge?" Laufey hopes so.

“What’s the point of leaving before she’s born?” Loki asks. “They’ll just bury me instead.”

“I’ll take care of you,” Fenrir says stoutly. 

“Yes, I know,” Loki says. “No, I have something to deal with already, beyond sparing Asgard some ghoulish inconvenience.”

Laufey chuckles. "Good. Tell me if you have need of me." The ruler of Jotunheim is at nobody's disposal as a rule, but there are a few exceptions.

“I’ll let you know,” Loki says thoughtfully. “The thing is--well, it seems clear that the baby is connected to Hel, and the myths on Midgard say my daughter rules there. So why is it that when we both turned to--this form--that so many more ghosts appeared? Appeared, but didn’t come to her?”

Laufey says, "Perhaps you're blocking her power or trapping her somehow in this form."

“What it _means_ ,” Loki says, “is that there’s no one keeping the dead in line. There is no Hel because there is no one to rule it.” She smiles uncomfortably. “It means that she isn’t only a ruler of Hel--she is the only one there’s ever been, and she should have been there always already.”

Time and its working are not Laufey's forte, but that seems right. "But you doubt that things will arrange themselves on their own. You think you need to make it so."

“Not me,” Loki says. “I was right before. I can’t rearrange the universe to have her here and there at the same time, and before I was ever born. It’s not among my talents. But you and I both know someone whose talent it is. I was right the first time.”

 _Ah_. "Do you think that's a good idea?" Laufey asks. It's a lot to ask. And the child is skittish.

“It’s the only idea,” Loki says. “So far. Why, do you have a better one?”

"No," Laufey says. "I think it may be the only way. Have you trained her well?" A certain level of undisciplined magic is acceptable, but not in someone so powerful.

“I don’t know!” Loki says. “I’m not a teacher! But she’s clever and she knows about caution now. Hopefully not too much caution.”

Laufey doesn't think so, if Wanda is anything like Loki. "Try it. The worst that will happen is that we won't be here to know about it."

Loki laughs. “That is a philosophical way of looking at it. I would think that all of us being here to know about it, enduring terrible agonies forever, might be worse. But that could possibly not happen.”

"Whatever the case," Laufey says, "you'll have an extremely powerful god of the dead on your side. Assuming she takes to you."

Loki says, “You could have just left it at ‘on your side.’ Truly I would not have minded that at all.”

~

Fenrir only leaves because Loki makes him, and he whines and yelps the whole way to Latveria. He skids into Victor’s view, where he’s pretending to work and instead worrying over what kind of upbringing you give to a child who begins and ends in Hel. Fenrir barks, “Hurry up! Hurry up!”

Victor stands up so far he knocks his chair over. "What, what is it?"

“ _Cub,”_ Fenrir says, licking his lips. Wrong words, but he can barely make any. 

"The baby," Victor says. "Fenrir--take me there, now."

Fenrir hunkers down to allow Victor up, and springs out of the castle. They have to go too far to get back to Heimdall, but what can he do?

The wind is against him, so he hears the hoofbeats before he smells his brother. _Not you_ he growls, but Sleipnir laughs at him haughtily.

 _I came first_ Sleipnir says. _I will kick you._

Victor tightens his fingers in Fenrir's fur and twists to look at Sleipnir. "Are we all going? Good. I don't mind, as long as we do it _now_."

Fenrir growls a little, since he has not slackened his pace and he doesn’t see _Victor_ learning to transport them they way Loki does. But he pushes ahead faster.

Heimdall says, “You are not too late,” as he redirects the Bifrost, and they land with a shock, breath punched out of them by the frigid air and sudden darkness.

Victor coughs and reorients himself, taking to glance at Fenrir. "Thank you," he says. "That was--well done. Follow me or don't." He strides off at a hurried pace.

“Follow _you,”_ Fenrir snarls scathingly, and lopes quickly past him. Too late for _what_? He knows, quite certainly, that they’re too late for the baby being born. Too late for _what_? Sleipnir canters ahead of him into the great hall and stops. Fenrir goes ahead of both of them. He cannot stay away, and besides, he was chosen to be the herald.

Laufey blocks him. “Quiet yourself,” they say. “No one needs your panting and gasping here.”

Fenrir snaps back a low growl and wags his tail appealingly.

Victor catches up to Fenrir, breathing hard. "Laufey," he says. "I need to see Loki."

Laufey gives him an inscrutable look, but says only, “Loki thinks so. Go on.”

In the chamber, Loki is already dressed, shivering in her Asgardian body. Fenrir can hardly even tell that his sister has been born, except that the odd, itching smell that’s particularly hers has been added to the cold and to Loki and Laufey. It makes him a little uncomfortable, the way his mother hides it. Maybe she is thinking about _Fenrir_ being born. 

Loki is sitting on the edge of the bed, her hair tucked over one shoulder, holding a small pale thing. _No fur._ That is disappointing. Loki’s eyes dart over to Victor. “I thought you should come along now,” she says briskly. “In case there’s no other chance.”

Victor goes to the bed and kneels, face level with the little one. "Hello," he says croakily.

Fenrir pads over and pushes his nose against Loki’s shoulder. She looks very tired, and she feels too many things too strongly for Fenrir to digest them correctly. But Loki leans back against him slightly, which soothes Fenrir a little.

Loki says, “There’s nothing wrong with her, Victor, don’t worry about that.” She makes some expression that gets caught between pride and pain. “But we have to move fast or we’ll all be buried in Asgard’s dead. And, you know, Wanda _could_ get it wrong. So just in case. There.” She holds out the baby. Fenrir, in his own mouth, can practically feel her grinding her teeth.

"I want to hold her," Victor says. He takes the baby from Loki and cradles her on the crook of his arm, tucking his cloak up around her. "She looks like you," he remarks.

“Does she look like you?” Loki asks. It could be nasty, but it’s just on the side of not. 

"Yes," Victor says, tilting his head. "She's got these little curls at the temples. I think that's me. And maybe her nose."

“Nice nose,” Loki says. “They’re probably at the palace by now.”

Fenrir growls. “I smell them.”

“Then we had better go,” Loki says. Her voice is even, but she isn’t quite looking at Victor.

"Do you want me with you?" Victor asks. "I'd like that."

“Yes, Victor,” Loki says obviously. “Where do you think I’d want you?”

"Perhaps where I have been," Victor says gently. "Out of the way. Come, then." He hands the baby back to Loki and puts his hand on the small of her back.

“Let’s hope she doesn’t disappear forever,” Loki says brightly, and Fenrir gets onto his elbows with a groan. “Up, Victor,” she tells him. She nods to the door, where Sleipnir stands. “We’ll go that way. He’s faster.”

The ghosts are already reaching for them as they gallop across the ice.

~

Wanda is pacing and waiting. She doesn't feel ready, but maybe she never will. Is it worse than she's being asked to help with someone as big as a god, or that she knows she can do it? It can't even be that hard. She just needs to make what happens happen. And Loki trusts her.

She takes deep breaths and tells herself it could still be days away. But there is a sudden gust of air, and her apartment is filled up by fur and hooves and green. Loki looks awful.

“We didn’t call ahead,” Loki says, which is an apology. She climbs down from Sleipnir, but leaves one hand resting on his high neck. Neither Sleipnir nor his brother fit right, in here. At least there are high old ceilings in creaky old apartment buildings.

Loki’s other arm is wrapped around something small and cushioned in blankets.

"Oh," Wanda says softly, excited and anxious at the same time. "Is that her? Can I see?" Babies are almost as frightening as giant wolves. She wants one so much.

“You’re helping her, you can see her,” Loki says. She doesn’t come any closer, so Wanda has to come to her.

Wanda goes to Loki and pulls back the blankets a little. "Wow," she says. The baby must look like Victor, she thinks, although she's never seen a picture of him when he was young. "She's perfect."

“Naturally,” Loki says, sounding a little bemused. Then she jumps as the sound of something heavy hits the door.

“Dark!” Fenrir yips. Shadows are beginning to flood through the walls.

“You can admire her after you do the spell,” Loki tells Wanda. It’s nice of her, that there’s not a hint in her voice that she thinks Wanda might not do it right.

Wanda nods, back to business. She believes, fully and completely, that she _can_ do this. But if she can do it now, when it counts, that's the question. She doesn't have to touch the baby, and nobody here cares about the look of things, so she just stands, eyes open, and thinks. Her hands fill with light after a moment, but that's not where the magic is happening, only where it shows. The ghosts are still trying to come in, and succeeding, but Wanda tunes them out. "Hel," she whispers, screwing her eyes shut. “She goes there when she’s older. She goes to the beginning. She opens the door. She can feel the shape of the plan: Hel, the baby, the past, the future--she just has to weaves them all together while keeping them separate. It's all there already. She just has to--

 _Ah_. A ghost that Wanda didn't notice was there lets go of Loki's arm.

Loki is looking at the baby, not at her. She mouths something Wanda can’t see.

Victor, watching the ghosts, says, “Where are they going?”

“Home,” Fenrir says, shivering.

"It worked," Wanda says with certainty.

Loki looks up abruptly. “Did it?” she says. She looks mortal, practically. The last of the ghosts have climbed out through the walls. Out the windows, they move off down the street, the few pedestrians jumping back with shouts. Wanda sees someone try to punch one of them and nearly topple into the road. “So it--she’ll stay put, then?” Loki says. “She’s there, but she’ll stay put?”

"Yes," Wanda says. She gives Loki an excited little smile. "Here and there. Until she grows up into who she is."

"God," Victor says. He sounds exhausted and relieved.

“We planned it all out. Wanda made it,” Loki says, “so that when she grows up and goes to open Hel, she’ll open it to--the beginning. Of Hel. Because it’s always been there, but it can’t exist without her--so when she wasn’t something the dead recognized, there was no queen of Hel, so the dead had nowhere to go--that’s why they piled up suddenly--but now she will already have gone there and who knows, we might even be able to visit. If she’s there to open the door. If she likes us.” She won’t stop looking at the baby, sort of frowning and thoughtful.

Victor takes a shaky breath. "I see," he says evenly. "So--she's ours. For however long--I didn't--Thank you, Wanda."

Wanda nods. "Your baby," she tells Loki, "I think she's going to be great."

“They do that,” Loki says, distant and a little faint, which is how Wanda knows that Loki _wasn’t_ sure it would go right, even if Wanda didn’t mess up.

"I want to go home," Victor says suddenly. "I want all of us to go home and just--sit."

“I can’t,” Loki says, still sounding dazed. “I’m tired.” 

Fenrir says, stricken, “You aren’t dying, are you, mother?”

“What?” Loki says, finally looking up. “No, I’m not dying! No--I’ll just--I can do it, in a bit. Or make Wanda do it. I guess she can do anything, now.”

Wanda shivers. "Don't say that. I'm still learning. But I could probably send you home."

"Or Fenrir could," Victor says.

“Fenrir could _what?”_ Loki says.

“Bring us home,” Fenrir says modestly.

"Wanda isn't the only one who's been learning," Victor says. "But he hasn't had a chance to practice much, have you?" He scratches Fenrir's shoulder.

Fenrir bows his head, panting and smiley. 

“How--?” Loki starts. “Oh, never mind. Let’s give it a try. I’m sure I can lend a little push if you do the real work.”

~

Occasional ghosts turn out to be a feature of Hela even with her dominion in its rightful place, but there are fewer of those as the weeks go by. She develops a personality very quickly, which oughtn’t to surprise anyone; it’s too early to know what that will mean, when she’s old enough to either team up or get into fights with her mother. Victor tries to think about it only in productive, planning, very rare ways.

Just as things begin to settle, though, the guests arrive. Thor comes first; he _would_ be. 

"We come bearing gifts," Thor booms. He shakes a small rattle in the shape of a hammer at them. "Bruce told me of these. Will your child be a warrior? Surely she is old enough."

“She’s not a warrior,” Tyr says. He is a less unwelcome invasion, although he is an invasion just the same. “Can’t you keep anything in your head? I just explained--”

“Can anyone pick that thing up but you?” Loki says, raising his eyebrows at the rattle.

"I think so," Thor says cheerful, only derailed for a moment. "Besides, she must be very mighty." He looks dubious. "Are you certain she is to be queen of Hel? May I hold her?"

“Yes,” Loki says. “But if you hurt her you won’t like it. So watch out.”

“I can pick it up,” Bruce says to Victor, a quiet aside with a small smile attached to it.

They don’t stay long--probably less long than Thor would like--and things are quiet again for a few days. Avengers show up in little groups, all various levels of interested and irritating, and then they go away again. They always come back, and they always go away. Pietro and their boy come by, and Wanda, who brings her own guests, eventually. 

Hela gets older. Victor does as well. Everyone does--although on some of them it’s hardly noticeable. Enough things are good that it’s hard to really mind; and being the father of the queen of Hel has its own sideways perks. It’s all better than it could have been. That’s really more than enough.


End file.
